


Promise

by masongirl



Series: Request Game drabbles [9]
Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Angst, Anniversary, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Growing Old Together, Hair, M/M, Memories, Old Age, Pillow Talk, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Promises, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25023130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masongirl/pseuds/masongirl
Summary: On a bright summery dawn, Carwood remembers a promise Ron made fifty years ago.
Relationships: Carwood Lipton/Ronald Speirs
Series: Request Game drabbles [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792132
Comments: 19
Kudos: 40





	Promise

Carwood liked Ron with dirty, matted hair, with blood and debris caked into his locks, with a neatly slicked cut and untamed waves in the morning, and he's sure he'd like him bald too. But nothing compares to what he feels when he looks at him now, on this ruby summer dawn. It's still early, but through the fine veil of their curtains, warm sunshine sneaks into the room. The cheerful birdsong drifting in through the window draws a smile to Carwood’s lips. Ron is awake, sitting back against the headboard with his fingers laced together on his lap, and his hair is damp. Left to dry on its own, it springs into messy curls that hang over Ron’s forehead and break the severity of his frown. The silver streaked into its dark coils seems to glint in the sharp light.

“Did you take a shower?” Carwood asks, rolling to his side.

Ron keeps his eyes fixed on something outside as if he was guarding the house, but his gaze is empty when he whispers a reply. “Yes.”

If the thousand-yard stare wasn’t an indication, Carwood would know from his tone that he’s not quite here, but lost somewhere in France, Germany or Korea. He must be chasing ghosts. They all do that sometimes, regardless of rank or the number of years they served. Sighing, Carwood forces his creaking joints to move and sits up. He combs his hand through Ron’s fringe and presses his thumb to the deep trenches of his frown lines, then coaxes his eyebrows to smooth out until Ron closes his eyes.

He rubs Ron's chest through his army green shirt. It wouldn't surprise him if Ron confessed he misses his uniform. “Sir, the war is over.”

Ron huffs. “We have different concepts of peace then, Lieutenant.”

Getting concerned now, Carwood squeezes the back of Ron’s neck. The muscles are tense under his touch. “Sweetheart, are you with me?”

“Yes.” Ron clears his throat, then shakes his head, leans forward almost too fast for Carwood to move back. Their noses bump together, and they wince in unison. 

“Sorry.” Ron grimaces, then gives the window another haunted glance. "I was planning to make you breakfast, but…" He doesn't have to say it, they both know what he means. It happens more and more often nowadays. They are powerless against the force of time and how it crept up on them with bad episodes and worse diagnoses.

"It's okay, I'm not hungry anyway." Carwood says softly.

"Today of all days." Ron grumbles, but he lets Carwood pull him down until they're lying on their sides, tangled in an embrace. There aren't many anniversaries that Ron celebrates, but never, not once in fifty years of a secret relationship, did he forget to honour this one. It's important to him, more than anyone could fathom. "You still remember, don't you?"

"Of course." Carwood smiles and tightens the hug, tucking his head under Ron's chin. Ron's frame may be more fragile now, but he fits into Carwood's arms with the same comforting strength he radiated all his life. He wants to soak it up while he still can. "You haven't changed a bit."

Ron's chuckle is followed by the brush of his lips on Carwood's forehead, then his temple. "Subtle flattery has never been one of your strong suits."

"I mean it though." In all the ways that matter, Ron is the same man he got to know in the war. Those five decades they spent together since then didn't change him, didn't break the adamant willpower he always possessed. 

Carwood remembers that day in '45 so clearly - if he closes his eyes, he can pretend he's still there. He tangles his fingers into Ron's hair and pulls at a curl, like he did countless times that day. Was it the first time he saw it freshly washed? It left him stunned, that's all he knows now. He kept touching it to see how the strands bounced back into their gentle wave until Ron pounced and pressed him to the wall with greedy, irresistible kisses. That passion was something else, wasn't it?

As if reading his thoughts, Ron squeezes his waist and gives in to the pull of nostalgia. "You were so shy back then, I felt wicked for touching you."

"What?" Carwood splutters a laugh. "That's a tall tale if I've ever heard one. I've never been shy."

"You blushed crimson red when I kissed your stomach."

"Because no one had done that to me before. You can't expect a guy to handle such an experience unfazed."

He can hear the smirk in Ron's voice. "I did."

"You are shameless."

They lapse into a moment of silence, then Ron scoots down until they are level. He brackets Carwood's hands in his between their chests, rubbing mindless patterns with his thumbs. His eyes are sharp and too sad for this beautiful sunny day. "Do you recall what you asked that night?"

"Yes." Carwood replies somberly. He doesn't know what tells him to do it, but he repeats the words he mumbled into the space between their lips all those years ago. "What are we going to do when all this ends, Ron?"

Ron exhales, too troubled to hide the sorrow in his gaze. "I wish we had more time to figure that out."

Carwood's sight blurs, but he blinks the tears away. They have no place here, not today. "I wish the same."

"But since we don't, I want you to know that my old promise still stands." Ron kisses his hand and smiles like he did in that bumpy bed in Austria, and Carwood lets the memory grow in his mind until he's back there, thrilled to be alive and offering a future. It was one of those precious moments when it hit him just how young they both were, how inexperienced in life's tricky ways. They had escaped death - nothing seemed impossible.

_ "Carwood, I promise you something." _ Ron said then, firm as ever, and put Carwood's hand on the left side of his chest.  _ "This will always be yours, even if the fondness you hold for me now wanes or finds someone else." _

_ "It won't."  _ Carwood replied with determined conviction, and he was right. He loved Ron in cold and rain and under fire, close and thousands of miles away, loved him needy between the sheets and with stolen gold in his hands, loved him when his days turned brittle, and he's sure he'll love him in the grave too.

_~End~_

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated. 🌼


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